Tentacle Snuggles
by Thornwitch
Summary: After accidental exposure to Seeker pharmaceuticals. Soundwave gets cuddly with a captured Autobot. Jazz is totally going to use this as blackmail material. Humor/Crack.


Tentacle Snuggles

* * *

_Written for the August Ficathon over on tfanonkink in Livejournal, but pretty much clean for general audiences. T for suggestive themes and inadvertent drug use by giant alien robots._

_Basically G1 with some movie-ish character designs, since I wanted Tentacle!Soundwave and Silver!Jazz.  
_

* * *

The victory party was winding down, drunken mechs subsiding in corners and against the walls, or the luckier ones stumbling back to quarter with friends or frag buddies. Megatron and Starscream were long gone. Soundwave, who was still regrettably sober, was plotting to make his escape. It didn't look like anyone who was still present was going to need a lot of supervision.

Besides, there were more interesting places he could be spending time. During today's battle, they had captured the Autobot third in command, the elusive saboteur Jazz. He was down in the brig, and Soundwave was irresistibly drawn there, like a satellite being pulled into a gravity well.

He quietly rose from his seat and left the room, stepping over the sprawled (and slightly sticky) form of a Stunticon as he went. He had spent enough time playing den mother to his drunken comrades this evening. It was time for an intellectually stimulating conversation with a worthy adversary. He stashed a cube of energon in his subspace as he went. It was quite likely that the guards would have neglected to fuel the prisoner, and it would make a good peace offering.

Soundwave traveled through the halls of the Nemesis with the swift, stealthy gait of a frame modded for wartime intel. There were few other Decepticons around, most of them either tucked away on duty shift or messily passed out somewhere .

He entered the brig, expecting to see the on duty mech at the watchstation, a small desk with security feeds that monitored the cells. He had been planning to send whoever was present away, but if the fool had abandoned his post, he would have to waste his time taking disciplinary action…Unless Jazz had disabled the guard and escaped. It would hardly be unprecedented.

But no, there were Decepticon guards present, and he might need to take action of one kind or another in any case. Thrust and Ramjset were hanging around outside of Jazz's cell, and Thrust was holding a vial filled with a glowing, viscous orange liquid.

The Autobot has assumed the body language of a mech with no particular worries, but Soundwave had studied him enough to know that he was ready to spring into action at the tiniest provocation. The saboteur was more than prepared to fight or flee, should he get the opportunity.

"State business". Soundwave demanded.

"Aagh! I mean, yes, Spooky, I mean Sir!" Yelped Thrust. The mech was overcharged on duty. Disgraceful. Dirge had probably brought him cubes from the party.

Soundwave swept towards the seekers, his sensory panels flared aggressively. They stumbled over themselves to get out of his way. Idiots.

"Query: Purpose of substance?" He all but growled. No half-clocked morons should be anywhere near Jazz with unidentified chemical compounds.

Thrust tripped over one of Ramjet's stabilizers, flailed, and lost his grip on the vial, which went flying. It shattered, right in the middle of Soundwave's chest plate.

All four of them froze in shock. The substance tingled, not unpleasantly.

"Query: Contact Poison?" Soundwave inquired, his voice steady as ever.

"N-no sir." Dirge whispered. "It's Cuddlebug."

"We…we thought it would be funny." Said Thrust, holding his servos up, empty, to show his lack of hostile intent to his superior officer. "He's all aloof in there, thinking up ways to kill us in our recharge, and you know what that stuff does to mechs, they're totally not dangerous when they're on it…"

The words were sounding oddly far away, as the world gradually became pink tinged and fuzzy around the edges. Soundwave grabbed one of the bars to steady himself, and a distant part of his processor registered that they were not electrified as they should be.

"Leave." He commanded the two winged forms.

The seekers fled, and he turned his attention to the lithe, silvery form inside the cell.

Soundwave had just enough presence of mind to un-subspace a couple of cleaning rags and wipe as much of the substance off as he could, but most of the dose had already absorbed into his systems.

The bars were cold. He wanted something warm to hold onto. Someone. He'd like to be closer to a nice, humming electromagnetic field… What had he come down here for again? He caught sight of a small, silvery mech on the other side of the bars. Jazz. The mech looked concerned. Obviously he needed a hug.

* * *

Jazz wasn't sure he was going to be able to either talk or fight his way out of this one. He was weaponless, mildly injured, and some of his more useful elective mods had been removed. The Con was also much bigger and stronger than he was, and he was a formidable fighter. Close quarters like the cell would have put him at a disadvantage with a normal opponent who had that much of a reach on him, and Soundwave had extras.

On the other hand, the dumbass seeker was right. Cuddlebug was mostly harmless, at least to spectators. It could be used to get a mech to do things he normally wouldn't, because one of the side effects was lowering inhibitions, and temporarily impairing cognitive function, but the main event was…

Soundwave used his command overrides to get into the cell, and despite his best evasive maneuvers, Jazz found himself snagged. The big blue-grey mech had unfurled his mods, and there were tentacles everywhere.

And they were friendly.

"Ack!" was all he managed as his limbs and torso were entwined by serpentine metallic limbs.

The main effect of Cuddlebug was to make mecha who used it touchy-feely in the extreme. Obviously, it was working as designed.

If he got out of this intact, Jazz was going to have the funniest "captured by Decepticons" story _ever_. As he futilely attempted to wriggle and ooze out of the Dcon Second in Command's squid-like grip, Jazz allowed himself to see the humor in his predicament.

If this were a loft party back in the old days of his misspent youth, this might have been a fun situation. In the semi-crumbled ex-industrial sector that had been colonized by artistic types of all bents, there had been occasional parties involving Cuddlebug. It was mostly harmless, after all. As long as you were with mecha you trusted, that is.

He batted at a tentacle tip that was trying to wind affectionately around his neck. Another flexible appendage snagged his wrist, and twined up his arm, its tip exploring the inside of his elbow joint.

They had been young, wild and rebellious, on the outskirts of proper Cybertronian society. Jazz had tried a little, once. It had made everything kind of floaty, and he had snuggled half the mechanisms present, winding up in the lap of a bemused freight bot who wrote epic poems in his processor when he was at work. Nice mech, as Jazz recalled. Very grateful to receive affection, and a surprisingly good poet.

The dose that had hit Soundwave was easily ten times the amount he had used that time. A tentacle curled around his waist and squeezed affectionately. "Frag my life." Jazz groaned. Something was stroking the back of one of his knee joints. Stuck in the brig inboard the Nemesis, with the Decepticon Third in Command engulfing him in tentacles? So typical. It had some potential to be fun, but Jazz didn't like his partners to be a. Decepticons or b. Quite this out of it. The Con's arms wrapped around him, on top of the tentacle-y entrapment. He was well and truly stuck.

"Soundwave?" He asked, searching that visor for some indication that the other mech was still in there somewhere. "Can ya undersand me?"

The Decepticon didn't answer, except to nuzzle his masked face against one of Jazz's sensor horns. His engines had settled into a soft purring rumble. It felt unfairly good. Jazz almost joined the Con in his purr. Then; "Understand." He replied with his odd, monotone vocalizer.

"Good to hear it, mah mech." Jazz said. At least he was dealing with someone who still registered as 'sapient'. It made the whole thing seem a little less creepy. What're you planning on doing ta me?"

The response was a buzzing purr, and a nuzzle against the back of his neck. "Hug."

Oooookay. Well, it could definitely be a lot worse. A tentacle wrapped his ankle joint, and began to caress up and down. "Ya sure ya wanna be doin' this wit me?" He asked, inventing unsteadily as yet another of Soundwave's appendages began to insinuate itself inexorably in between his legs, coiling around a thigh. He ruthlessly suppressed his frame's response to the stimulus.

The response was a hum, and clawed fingertips petting his plating. "Jazz: warm, smooth. Shiny. Not annoying. Clever."

Well, it didn't seem like the Decepticon actually meant him any harm. That was a good thing. And…if Jazz was honest, it _was_ kind of nice. Soundwave's plating was hot and solid and the petting was giving him little tingles now that he was pretty sure he wasn't going to be hacked or dismembered…

The Con settled on the floor of the cell, pulling Jazz into his lap. His face nuzzled into the joints and cabling of his neck and shoulder. The buzzing purr increased in volume, enough to send pleasant vibrations into his hydraulic fluid. Big, clawed hands stroked armor and transformation seams, and there were intrusive tentacles everywhere.

Jazz felt his systems heat up despite his efforts to the contrary. He probably shouldn't be enjoying this, but on the other hand, it was better than a lot of things that could be happening to him right now, and it wasn't like Soundwave was trying to hurt him or hack him for information. The affectionate caresses were…nice. Arousing.

If only the whole experience seemed a little less like a bad pornographic anime or the cover of an exploitative vintage sci fi novel. He eeped when a tentacle tip scraped gently along a sensitive cluster of wiring. Soundwave and his many, many appendages were getting kind of personal, there! It was a good thing Cybertronians didn't wear chainmail bikinis or those schoolgirl outfits with the pleated skirts. Otherwise Jazz would _really_ be worried.

The question was, would Soundwave still respect him in the morning? More importantly, were they liable to be interrupted by other amorous, but less snuggly Decepticons any time soon? Jazz managed to twist around enough to see the Decepticon Third's face, and to his surprise, he saw that the mask and visor had been retracted.

When had that happened? And had Soundwave always been cute? He was, too. Not classically handsome, but he had pleasant, rough features and an adorably dreamy smile. The smile was probably chemically induced, but still.

He caught sight of a telltale shimmer in the air, just outside of the cell. He had long ago fine-tuned his visor to detect it.

"Hey, Soundwave." Jazz said.

There was a pause in the purring. "Mmmm?" Soundwave responded. The scarlet optics were dim, and the saboteur could tell the mech wasn't all there.

"I just wanted ta say, this has been really fun and all, but I gotta run. No hard feelings, I hope? If we can put the whole archrivals across factions thing aside, I'd love to do it again sometime when you're in your right processor."

Looking over Soundwave's shoulder, Jazz gave Mirage a nod.

The personal size EMP generator the former noble stabbed under one of Soundwave's armor plates could have put Megatron himself down for a nap, and the head of Dcon Intelligence was halfway there already.

The big, dark mech's optics widened, and then he slumped forward. Trapping Jazz even more completely. It figured.

"You okay boss?" the infiltrator asked in a worried tone. He moved forward to haul Soundwave's chassis off of Jazz before he overheated from having all his vents muffled.

"Just ducky." Jazz said. "Soundwave here ran afoul of the seeker's stash of recreational substances, but aside from being king of grabby, he was a complete gentlemech."

As his subordinate helped untangle him from Soundwave's unconscious limbs (while suppressing unseemly giggles) Jazz couldn't help but grin. It had been a very weird experience, but it had been sort of fun. Sometime he was going to need to see what Soundwave could do with all those tentacles when he wasn't completely out of his processor.


End file.
